


Carve Your Name on Hearts

by rai87



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Major Character Injury, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-01-21 12:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12458226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rai87/pseuds/rai87
Summary: "It was difficult to slip “I saw your victim’s ghost in the tinned foods section of the supermarket” into conversation without sounding completely insane."Or, Barba sees dead people.





	1. Chapter 1

_Matt was shouting at him. He didn’t know why. He could never remember._

_His eyes were on the road. He remembered that._

_He remembered the crash. Remembered screaming._

_Remembered silence._

 

Rafael woke with a start. It took a second for him to orientate himself, to keep from reaching for someone who wasn’t there, who was in a car 15 years ago and not in bed beside him now.

He’d been dreaming about Matt a lot lately.

He knew why, of course, but all the cynical self awareness in the world couldn’t make him forget the sticky hot feel of blood on his hands.

His shiver was only partly to do with the cold of his room. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself and tried to will himself back to sleep. He was almost successful when on the edge of sleepy awareness he felt the air around him grow heavy, and the steady sound of dripping water pulled him back to wakefulness.

He raised his head to face the shadow at the end of his bed.

What do you want me to do?” he asked.

He sighed at the silence and dropped his head back on the pillow. “What do you want me to do,” he mumbled again as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

After a restless night of nightmares and shadows, Rafael woke already exhausted. He didn’t bother going into the office; he was due in court early and had everything he needed at home. He switched the TV on for background noise as he flipped through Carisi’s notes again. He was due to testify today and Rafael was frustrated that they hadn’t had much time to prep.

He heard a familiar name from the TV and glanced up. It was the parents again, this time standing outside the house holding a framed picture.

_“Please, if you have our daughter, please give her back. We love her so much. Her sister asks for her every day. Please. We just want to have her home.”_

Rafael sighed. Claire Barnes, 8 years old. Had gone missing from her front yard one week earlier. SVU had caught the case but so far hadn’t turned up a thing. No one had seen the girl since she the moment she disappeared.

No one except for Rafael, who had seen her almost every night and some days in between, soaked through, her tights ripped, her purple scarf hanging in tatters by her feet. She was missing a shoe. For some reason that hit him the hardest.

She was probably already dead by the time SVU picked up the case. He wished he could tell them that, but it was difficult to slip “I saw your victim’s ghost in the tinned foods section of the supermarket” into conversation without sounding completely insane. Instead he stayed out of their way, refusing to watch Liv torture herself over a hopeless cause. He’d seen Carisi the day before to talk about his testimony for the trial; he’d looked distracted and tired.

“Do you think she’s dead?” He’d asked, none too gently.

Carisi had looked at him for a long moment. “There’s always hope.” But Rafael had seen the pain in his eyes and hadn’t pushed any further.

He’d tried to get her to speak over the last few days, the girl, to get some idea of what had happened to her and where she was, but she’d simply stared at him wordlessly. That wasn’t unusual, in his experience. The people he saw didn’t always communicate in words. Instead he somehow felt them; their anger, their grief, their terror.

It made it difficult to sleep.

The camera zoomed in slowly on the picture of Claire as her parents continued to beg in vain for her return. She had a sweet face, gap toothed smile and big blue eyes. They were always hidden by wet strands of hair when he saw her.

He switched the television off and headed to court.

 

* * *

 

“Detective Carisi, during your interrogation of the defendant, he indicated that he wasn’t present in the bar the night of the attack, is that correct?”

“That’s what he said. But the CCTV footage we found contradicted that.”

“Did you find any other evidence to contradict his statement?”

“Well, five minutes later he blamed the attack on a friend he said he saw at the bar, so that raised a few eyebrows.”

Rafael turned his back to the jury and threw Carisi a look. This was why he’d wanted to prep more. The defense were playing the police harassment card pretty strongly, the last thing he wanted was for SVU to appear flippant to the jury. Happily, Carisi responded to his look with a barely there smile and dropped the smart ass remarks, and the rest of his testimony went relatively smoothly. He reached his last question, whether anything the defendant had told the detectives was true, when he caught a flash of pale skin in the gallery and froze. It was just for a moment, so brief the jury didn’t catch it, but if his frown was anything to go by, Carisi did.

They adjourned for lunch shortly afterward. Rafael waited for the courtroom to clear, glancing around for a glimpse of purple even though he could sense he was alone. After a moment taking in the silence, he picked up his briefcase and left the room, and was surprised to find Carisi waiting for him.

“I thought you’d be itching to get back to work.”

Carisi shrugged. “I can spare ten minutes. Is everything alright?”

Rafael hesitated, the lie of “yes” heavy on his tongue. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem a little under the weather.”

He knew Carisi had noticed. Usually the thought of someone seeing past the front he put up put him on the defensive, but with Carisi he didn’t always mind being seen. It had surprised him, how their relationship had developed over the last year from pulling pigtails and hero worship to something softer, deeper. An understanding he didn’t ask for or expect. For the first time in a long time he found himself wanting more. More than friendship, more than flirtatiousness. He knew Carisi was open to it, but the thought of it becoming real made his chest tighten and sent him back to hiding behind teasing sarcasm. Deep down he knew he should stop and tell Carisi to find someone with less baggage to chase after, but he didn’t have the heart or selflessness to send him away.

“Barba?” Carisi jolted him out of his self examination. “Seriously, is everything okay?”

“I’m fine.” He let the lie out. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Carisi nodded sympathetically. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“Right, the Barnes case. Still no leads?”

“Plenty of leads, but none of them go anywhere.” Carisi rubbed a hand across his eyes. “It just kills me that she could be out there somewhere and we can’t help her.”

Rafael  nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth to speak. Luckily, he was interrupted by Carisi’s phone. Rollins, Carisi helpfully mouthed to him before he walked off to take it. Rafael watched the progress of the call play across his back, his shoulders sinking then tightening before he hung up.

“Bad news?”

“They found something,” Carisi started, his attention drifting as he scrolled through a text or email that had just come through on his phone.

“Where?”

“Landfill. They’re sending out search teams now.”

Rafael’s stomach rolled with an anxiety that wasn’t his own. “She’s not there,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself. “She’s in the water.”

Carisi looked up with distracted confusion. “You know something I don’t, counselor?”

Rafael cursed himself for speaking. “I just mean... if she was out in the open someone would have found her by now. It’s more likely she’s in the water.” It was weak, and Carisi’s frown didn’t entirely disappear. “But then maybe you’re right, if that’s where they found the shoe. I’m not the Detective.”

Carisi managed a small smile. “Hey, I tell you how to do your job often enough, it’s only fair you tell me how to do mine.”

“I already do, none of you listen,” he smirked. “You should go.”

Carisi nodded but hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t need a water or something? You still don’t look well.”

“I’m fine, Carisi. I just haven’t been sleeping very well with the case, and the five cups of coffee on an empty stomach probably didn’t help.”

Carisi shook his head. “Remind me to tell my mother that there is in fact someone with a worse diet than me.” He looked back at his phone and towards the elevator, evidently eager to get going. “Fine, I’ll go. Maybe get a sandwich or something? Any foodstuff that isn’t liquid and caffeine based?”

Rafael smiled at his concern. “I’ll pick up a scone when I’m getting the rest of my liquid, caffeine based lunch.”

“Attaboy,” Carisi said, and Rafael felt ridiculous for almost blushing in the circumstances.

“Good luck,” he said, and cringed at how inappropriate it sounded.

Carisi smiled, tight and sad, and headed to the elevator. Rafael watched him leave then turned away, his eyes falling on a small girl in the crowd, dressed in purple, her face hidden by wet strands of hair. He blinked and she was gone.

 

* * *

 

The defense agreed to a plea shortly after Carisi’s testimony. It was a good deal and it saved the victim from having to testify, which she had been grateful for. He considered texting Carisi to let him know, but he suspected it wouldn’t be the best time. He’d been home for hours now and the girl hadn’t appeared since court. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe they’d found her.

He wondered who would tell her parents.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. He checked the peephole, a habit drilled into him by Liv when she found out about his penchant for giving out his address to apparent hitmen, and saw a drawn looking Carisi on the other side. He didn’t realize he knew where he lived.

“Detective,” he greeted as he opened the door.

Carisi looked worse face to face. His eyes were red rimmed, he was pale, and his hair was a mess. “Can I come in?” He asked, his voice hoarse.

Barb stepped back to let him pass. “You found her.”

Carisi sat down heavily on the couch. “Yeah,” he said shortly.

“I’m sorry.” Rafael paused. Their friendship may have come a long way in the past year, but he still wasn’t fully at ease in situations like this. He caught sight of his own half drunk glass of scotch on the table. “Can I get you a drink?”

Carisi shook his head. “I’m still on duty.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, stiff with tension. “You were right.”

Rafael leaned against the wall instead of joining him on the couch. “About what?”

“We were searching the landfill site and the Lieutenant got a call.” He raised his head and looked at him steadily. “City workers found a body in a storm drain off the East River. Claire. Her parents identified her a few hours ago.”

Rafael’s hands tensed into fists behind his back. “Maybe I should change careers.” Carisi didn’t smile and Rafael got the distinct feeling he was being tested. “What’s up, Carisi?”

“You said her shoe.”

“Excuse me?”

“You said we’d found her shoe in the landfill. We didn't. We found her bike.”

Rafael closed his eyes. Shit. He spent so much time trying to avoid being blindsided in court, he didn't expect it to happen in his living room.

“I must have misunderstood.”

“Right.” Carisi looked down at his hands, clearly trying for casual but too on edge to make it convincing. “Funny thing is though, she is missing a shoe.”

Rafael stayed silent.

“Strange that you would know that, too.”

Rafael nodded then smiled slowly, expectantly. “What are you doing?”

Carisi shrugged. “I’m just talking.”

“Is that all you’re doing?”

There was a long, heavy silence while they just stared at each other.

Carisi sighed. “Here’s the thing, counselor. I’m a cop, and I have someone in front of me who seems to know more details about a case than he really should. Details about the body and where it was found. Someone who has shown a lot of interest in the case so far. What would you say about that?”

Rafael tried to keep his tone even, because anger and upset wouldn't help him right now. Panic would help even less. “I’d say you’ve had a rough day. I’d say you’re grasping at straws and lashing out at the nearest person so you can feel like you’re doing something, because otherwise all you have is a dead child and nothing to show for it.”

It came out more cruel than he intended, but he steeled himself to stand by it. He figured about half of it was right on the money, half was him trying to distract from the fact that blurting out details about crime scenes he hadn’t seen yet was unreasonably suspicious.

Carisi worked his jaw, his eyes searching. After a minute he looked away and stood. “Fine. I’ll see you around, counselor.”

He almost made it out the door before Rafael stopped him.

“Do you really think I’m capable of what you’re implying?”

Carisi paused with his hand on the door handle. “No, Rafael. I don’t. And you’re right, I’m grasping at straws. But I’m not an idiot, and there’s something you’re not telling me.”

The truth of the accusation hit him hard in the chest. In the moment, he wondered what it would be like to tell somebody, to be honest about himself with someone for the first time in forever. He wondered what it would be like to tell Carisi.

It would be a terrible mistake.

He wouldn’t believe him.

He’d think he was crazy.

He already thought he was crazy.

He started to laugh.

“Of all the people.”

“Barba?” Carisi’s eyes narrowed with uncertainty.

“The shoe she’s missing is her right. Her tights are ripped down her left shin and there’s blood, but not much. She has bruising around her neck but otherwise there are no major visible injuries.”

Carisi stood very still and swallowed. “You’ve been the morgue?”

“No,” Rafael said, after a breath. “She’s standing in the corner of the room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween y'all, have some ghosts. This is very much based on an episode of the UK show Afterlife with a bit of The Frighteners thrown in, because I love it. Unbeta'd, so if you see any glaring errors yell at me.
> 
> I'm a somewhat slow writer and I'm also working on my gift exchange fic, so can't promise regular updates, but I'll do what I can.


	2. Chapter 2

To his credit, Carisi didn’t turn to look.  “She’s what?”

It was probably too late to take it back now, but Rafael considered it all the same. "She’s standing in the corner of the room.”  
  
“Claire Barnes is…” Carisi trailed off, looking at him with a mix of pity and wariness that made his chest tighten. “Barba, she’s dead.”

“I noticed.”

"Then what…”  
  
“Her ghost,” Rafael said, almost stumbling on the word, he so rarely said it out loud.

He waited, unsure of what reaction to expect. He would have laughed, in Carisi’s shoes. Even knowing all he knew he still would think it ridiculous if someone said it to him out loud. 'I see ghosts'. It was nonsense.

Carisi didn’t laugh. He reacted like a cop, all stillness and guarded scorn. “There are no such things as ghosts,” he said matter of factly.  
  
“Really, Carisi, you don’t believe in life after death?” Rafael asked, unable to keep the mocking tone out of his voice. “What would your priest say?”

Carisi’s expression darkened. There was a reason they avoided talking about religion with each other. Rafael never could manage to treat it with complete respect. “That’s different.”

“Is it? How?”

“Because it is,” he said shortly.

“Wow,” Rafael snorted derisively, striding back to the couch and refilling his glass. “To think, when you stuck with the NYPD I was worried I wouldn’t see those brilliant debating skills in action.” He swallowed a too large gulp of scotch and let himself feel the burn of it down through his chest.

Carisi opened his mouth to respond before stopping himself with a heavy exhale. He closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them, his expression had softened. “Okay. Let’s both calm down, and talk about this.”

Rafael bit back a reflexive “I’m perfectly calm”, and nodded.

Carisi took a step forward from the door. “So you see ghosts?”  
  
“Yes.”   
  
“Okay.” Carisi took another step. “Have you always been able to see them?”

Rafael took a deep breath and tried not to be annoyed by Carisi’s overly soothing tone, treating him like a horse about to bolt. “Not always. But since you’ve known me, yes.”

“And they speak to you?” Another step. He cocked his head curiously. “Tell you to do things for them?”  
  
Rafael placed his glass down on the table and sat back in his seat. “They tell me to burn things. Is that wrong?” He fixed Carisi with a challenging glare.

“Barba.”  
  
“Don’t patronize me.”

Carisi’s mouth twitched in frustration. “Okay. I’m sorry. But you have to admit, this is a lot to ask someone to believe.

Rafael raised an eyebrow. “You believed I was a murderer quickly enough.”  
  
“I didn’t...” Carisi groaned and raised his hands in defeat. “I don’t know what I thought. Not this.”  
  
Rafael rubbed a thumb across the edge of his glass and felt the frustration settle into cold resignation in the pit of his stomach. Carisi was right, he wasn’t being fair. It’d taken him long enough to come to terms with this himself, and he’d had the proof right in front of him.

He should let it go. Let Carisi go, let him think what he wants and let Rafael deal with the consequences of his own mistake.

“Your grandfather died last year.”

He wondered when he had stopped listening to himself.

Carisi breathed in sharply. “Don’t,” he said with a warning tone.

Rafael ignored him. “You were in the middle of a case, there was a lot going on. You snapped at me and for once I couldn’t think what I’d done to set you off.” He smiled halfheartedly. “When I came by the precinct later there was a man standing behind you.”

He’d looked right at me, he wanted to say. He’d smiled, like he knew. His gaze had been too penetrating and Rafael had looked away, feeling exposed by something no one else could see. When he’d turned back, the man was gone.

Carisi crossed his arms across his chest tightly, like he was physically trying to hold himself back. “So your psychic powers extend to reading the obits section,” he said, anger creeping into the edges of his voice.  
  
“I’m not psychic, and I don’t spend my evenings reading Staten Island obituaries.” Carisi didn’t respond, so he added, “He looked like you.”

“Genetics. Spooky.” Carisi rolled his eyes and turned back towards the door. “I think I’ve had enough of this.”

“He was wearing a medal.” It came out quick and desperate, a plea to stay. "A silver medal, some patron saint. I couldn't see which one."

Carisi stopped, but kept facing the door. There was a tense silence before he spoke hoarsely. “St. Joseph. My mother put it on him when he was coming to the end.”  
  
Rafael’s heart started to beat faster. He felt they were on the edge of something and he didn’t know which way to push.

Carisi turned to look at him, his eyes teary. Rafael stood up and stepped forward, and Carisi quickly stepped back.

“Whatever you’re doing, it’s messed up.”  
  
Rafael’s heart sank. “Carisi, I’m not lying.” He held out a hand pleadingly. “I don’t lie to you.”

He wished that were true.

“Don’t do that.” Carisi snapped harshly, trying to brush subtly at his eyes. “Don’t use whatever is going on between us to try and manipulate me.”

“Like you did when you came round tonight?” It was out before he could stop himself and his breath caught at the look of betrayal on Carisi's face. “Wait, that’s not...”  
  
Carisi turned away and jerked the door open in one quick motion, refusing to look Rafael in the eye. “I need to go. I need… This is a lot. I need to think.”  
  
Rafael rushed forward and grabbed Carisi by the arm. “Carisi. Please. Don’t tell anyone about this.”

Liv. Don’t tell Liv.

Carisi still wouldn’t look at him. He gently pulled away from Rafael’s grasp. “Get some sleep. It’ll help.”  
  
Rafael started to say his name but he was already gone. He closed the door, rested his head against the cool wood and swore to himself.

Behind him, the girl began to whisper.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is now a worldwide ellipses shortage, because I used them all.
> 
> Thanks for all your comments on the last chapter, just a short dialogue-y one this week.


	3. Chapter 3

_“Barba, we need to talk. Can you come by as soon as you can?”_

Liv’s words rang in his ear the whole way to the precinct. Carisi hadn’t spoken to him since he walked out of his apartment two days earlier, and while he hadn’t said he was going to tell anyone about their conversation, he hadn’t promised to keep it quiet either. He liked to think Carisi would give him a heads up if Liv was about to have him arrested (or committed), but he couldn’t say he was certain of it. Not any more.

He was just being paranoid. Being called to the precinct was hardly unusual and Liv was unlikely to ambush him. He told himself that a hundred times on the way over but his certainty wavered when he walked onto the floor and every head turned to stare at him. Rafael was used to attention and often deliberately courted it, but this was different. This wasn’t admiration, or even curiosity. This was something else. He caught Carisi’s eye from across the room and faltered.

“Barba.” Liv was watching him from the doorway of her office, a small frown on her face. “Come on in.” Carisi turned his head away as he passed and Rafael’s chest tightened, but he kept his expression blank and joined Liv in her office.

He dropped tiredly to the couch without looking at Liv, but he could feel her watching him. She sat carefully next to him, her eyes never leaving his face. “Are you okay?” Her voice was quiet, concerned, and it only succeeded in putting him more on edge.

“I’m fine,” he replied, knowing she could hear the tremble in his voice. “Why?”

“Barba, you look half dead.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Is something wrong? Are you sick?”

He blinked up at her in surprise. In truth he didn’t actually know what he looked like right now. For all he’d examined his suit in the mirror before leaving the apartment that morning, he hadn’t been able to look himself in the face. “I...I’m getting over the flu,” he stuttered.

“Well, keep it to yourself,” she smiled, a trace of worry still in her eyes. “I already catch every little bug that makes its way through Noah’s kindergarten.”

He laughed, mostly at his own foolish paranoia, and sat up a little straighter. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“Right,” she said, suddenly businesslike. She walked over to her desk and picked up a file. “We got the results back on Claire Barnes’ autopsy.”

As always, the mention of her name made his stomach drop. “Cause of death?”

Strangulation.

“Strangulation. No other major injuries, no signs of sexual assault.”

He hadn’t been sure of that. There were whispers of touching, hands where she didn’t want them to be. He was sickened by his own relief that she had ‘only’ been murdered.

“Do you have any suspects?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Liv sighed and dropped the file behind her on the desk. “We’re looking at the father.”

No. That wasn’t right.

“The father?” He tried to keep the tone of his voice professionally curious. “I saw him on the news, making appeals. Does he seem the type?”

Liv shrugged helplessly. “What’s the type for something like this?” She ran a hand through her hair. “Rollins turned up evidence of an affair, and we have reports of him losing his temper with the kids.”

“So he’s a stressed father and a bad husband,” he smiled faintly. “Liv, that’s not enough for an arrest.”

“I know. And I’m not happy about this, but it’s enough for us to look into.”

He pressed a hand to his eyes. He knew that, he knew it was reasonable to look at the father, and he knew Liv was as exhausted by all this as he was. “So what do you need me for?”

“Nothing yet. This is just a heads up. But I’m going to need a warrant at some point.”

Rafael blew out a long breath, picturing the man who had become the face of a tragedy that had gripped the city being dragged through the mud by the media, who would come down on the NYPD like a ton of bricks when it became apparent that he had nothing to do with the murder.

“Just make sure before you do anything, okay Liv? I don’t want to have to explain to the DA that we pulled in a grieving father on anything less than complete certainty.”

She raised an eyebrow, just barely, and nodded. “Of course.” She walked back behind her desk and sat down. “I’ll call you when I need you.”

He ducked his head in acknowledgment and dragged himself up from the couch.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Liv’s voice was concerned, but also curious. She saw under his armor more than anyone, but it was still rare to see a glimpse of vulnerability. “You seem a little… muted.”

Rafael smiled at the door. Sometimes he thought Liv had her own power to see things others couldn’t. Muted was exactly how he felt, like he was walking round in a fog. If he was honest it had started before Claire Barnes but her presence had only made things grayer.

“I’m fine,” he repeated. “It’s just been a long few weeks.”

“Yeah,” Liv agreed. “Try and get some sleep though, okay?”

Rafael winced, reminded of the last time someone had told him that. Rollins and Fin looked up at him again as he walked out the door, though this time the could see the expression on their faces was concern, not accusation. He must look a wreck. He brushed past the detectives so quickly he didn’t realize Carisi wasn’t at his desk until an arm grabbed him and pulled him into an empty side room.

“Hi,” Carisi said softly.

Rafael gave him a cautious look. “Hi.”

“So, you talked to the Lieutenant.”

“I did.” He smoothed down an imaginary crease on his tie. “I thought it was going to be a different conversation.”

“I haven’t said anything to her.”

“I know.”

There was a lull as Carisi paced, his arms tightly folded across his chest. It was reminiscent of how he’d looked standing in his apartment that night, though this time he was holding himself with less tension.

“Out with it, Carisi, I have work to do today.”

Carisi stopped pacing with his back to Rafael. “Has she said anything?”

“Who, Liv?”

“Claire.”

Rafael froze. There were many things he’d expected Carisi to ask after that night. That wasn’t one of them. “Excuse me?”

Carisi turned, though he still wouldn’t fully meet Rafael’s eyes. “I’m asking you if Claire Barnes told you anything that might help us catch the guy who killed her.” His voice was steady, but urgent.

Rafael’s head swam. He felt like they’d missed a step. “Are you saying you believe me?”

Carisi looked up and met his gaze evenly. “I don’t think you’re lying.”

Rafael’s mouth twitched in a pale imitation of a smile. “Very good, counselor, but that’s not really the same thing.”

“It’s all I got.” Carisi said, his eyes now on the floor. “I want to believe you,” he added quietly. “I can’t give you more than that, but I’m willing to listen.” He looked up and met Rafael’s eyes again, and while he could still see the suspicion and unease in them, they also shone with something new. Rafael wanted to believe it was faith, but it looked more like desperation.

“What changed your mind?” He knew he wouldn’t like the answer, but he wanted to be sure.

“The Lieu wants us to look at the dad,” Carisi said bitterly. He shoved the back of a chair with the heel of his hand in clear frustration. “I spent days with those parents, I ate at their house. I’m the one who told them their daughter was dead, I stood with them when they identified the body.”

Rafael started at that. He didn’t know. He’d never asked.

“That father would never have hurt his kid,” Carisi stated vehemently. “I know it.”

That was his answer. This wasn’t about trust. Carisi was simply scrabbling about for any other option, however implausible.

“Barba, please. I just need something to go on.”

Rafael closed his eyes and remembered the frightened whispers of a child who had come to him for help because she had no one else.

“She knew him,” he said quietly. “Not by name, but she knew his face. He was familiar.”

Carisi nodded encouragingly. “Okay.” He took out his phone and started typing. Rafael hoped these notes weren’t going to end up in a file somewhere. “What else?”

“Butterflies.”

Carisi’s head snapped up. “What?”

“She likes butterflies. She liked the ones in his car.”

“In his car,” Carisi repeated skeptically.

Rafael shrugged. “You asked if she said anything. I’m telling you what she said.”

Carisi’s jaw tightened but he typed it down anyway. “Is that it?”

The chain had come off her bike. He told her that he’d seen her dad, that he’d be along soon. He said he could give her a ride to meet him, wouldn’t it be a great surprise. He told her she was very pretty. He put his hands on her and she didn’t like it. He got angry and she cried.

“I think he knew her father.”

Carisi sighed and dropped his phone back in his jacket pocket. Rafael knew he’d been hoping for more, like a name and address, criminal history and current whereabouts.

“Have you been eating?”

Rafael blinked. “What?”

“I mean… I don’t want to be patronizing,” Carisi said, throwing Rafael’s words back at him with just a hint of sarcasm. “But you look like you haven’t been.”

“I know how to feed myself, Detective,” Rafael said defensively. “And you are neither my mother nor my doctor.”

“No, I’m your friend.” Rafael felt a tug at his heart. They were still that, at least. “So let me buy you lunch.”

“I…” Rafael hesitated. Lunch was good. Lunch was normal. They used to do it all the time, only neither of them ever asked. They just knew each other's moods and schedules and went. Asking was just another thing that kept him feeling off balance. “Okay. But my office, not public.”

“I can do that,” Carisi agreed. “Let me clear some things up here, I’ll pick something up and meet you there.”

“Fine,” Rafael said brusquely, keen to get out of the conversation so he could think. Nothing had gone as expected today and he felt dizzy with the uncertainty of it. He glanced back as he was leaving and Carisi gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Carmen’s friendly greeting announced Carisi’s arrival, and Rafael felt himself tense involuntarily. He hated this uncertainty. Things had always been straightforward with Carisi; even when his feelings had been more complicated, he’d never found it difficult to be around him. But then neither of them had pushed to complicate things before Rafael admitted to being a human Ouija board.

Carmen rapped on the door gently and led Carisi in with a smile. She reminded Rafael of an appointment later that day then closed the door and left them alone.

Carisi loitered by the door grasping a bag of sandwiches, looking around as if the place wasn’t completely familiar to him. Rafael rolled his eyes and grabbed the bag, sitting down at the table and unwrapping them. Carisi got the message and joined him.

“So Thompson took a plea?”

“He did.” Rafael lifted the top slice of bread to check what was in the sandwich. He wasn’t surprised to find Carisi knew his order. “Not ideal, but it was the best option.”

Carisi hummed an agreement. “Working on anything else at the minute?”

“Well, at the minute I’m having lunch,” Rafael replied pithily “Are we going to move on to the weather next?”

Carisi sighed and pushed his food back, which he hadn’t eaten but had made a reasonable job of pulling to pieces. “I shouldn’t have come round to your apartment the other night. I wasn’t thinking straight.” He looked to Rafael for a reaction but he’d had sufficient practice at maintaining impassivity over the years, and gave nothing away. “It wasn’t professional.”

“Accusing people of murder is almost the crux of your profession.”

“I never thought that,” Carisi said fiercely, and Rafael’s eyes flicked up to meet his. “I thought maybe you knew something…”

Rafael rolled his eyes knowingly and looked away again.

Carisi chuckled. It sounded empty. “And I guess you did.”

“I guess.”

“How long?”

“What?” He knew, but he wanted to delay the point could see they were reaching.

“You said this has been going on since before we met, so, how long?”

Rafael stood sharply and walked over the coffee pot. Carisi let him pretend to check the pot and pour a cup and continued to watch patiently as Rafael regarded him over the rim of the cup.

“Coming up on fifteen years.”

Carisi’s eyes widened. “That’s… that’s a long time.”

“Yeah,” Rafael said behind a mouthful of lukewarm coffee. 

“And so, what?” Carisi shifted forward in his chair. “You just started seeing things one day? Out of the blue?”

Rafael stared into the bottom of his cup and debated whether or not there was any point in starting to lie again now. Technically the answer was yes, it had been out of the blue, but there was context that he hadn’t talked about in years. Not even to Liv, who knew more than most. He set the cup aside and used the opportunity to look away. “There was an accident. A truck ploughed into our car.”

“Our car?”

“A friend,” Rafael said, before feeling like he’d betrayed something. “A boyfriend,” he corrected. If Carisi reacted, he didn’t look to see it. “We’d been together a while, we were coming home from a weekend away. I was driving…”

“I didn’t know you could drive,” Carisi interrupted, before realization passed over his face and he cringed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. It wasn’t my fault, so they told me. Some idiot ran a red light and slammed into the passenger side. Matt’s side.”

Did he..?” Carisi asked, letting the unspoken word hang in the air.

“He died.” He was surprised by how clear his own voice sounded, like he was describing something that happened to somebody else. “I just remember waking up and reaching for him and coming back bloody.”

Had that happened? It happened in the dreams, when Matt’s eyes were open and accusing. In real life he didn’t think there was blood.

He cleared his throat and tried to shake off the false memory. “Anyway, next thing I know I’m waking up in the hospital and a woman is watching me, blood all down her front. I blinked and she disappeared.”

He heard Carisi’s intake of breath.

“That happened a lot before I realized something might be a little off,” he said, chuckling darkly. "I don't know why, or what it means. But that's how, and when."

Carisi dragged a hand down his face. He was silent for a moment, staring hard at a spot on the carpet. “I didn’t know any of that. I’m sorry.”

Rafael knew he wasn’t talking about the ghosts.

“It’s okay. No one does.”

“Not even Liv?”

“Liv knows there was someone, once. She doesn’t know what happened to him.”

“You never told anyone? Barba, that’s…”

He knew what he was going to say. The same thing his mother had said, that Rita had said. You need to talk to someone. Only someone meant not them, please, and he didn’t have anyone else for so long that he got used to keeping it to himself.

“I dealt with it, Carisi. It was a long time ago.”

Carisi pulled a strip from the wax paper wrapped round his sandwich. He rolled it between his fingers while he considered what to say. “Do you still see him?”

There was a heavy implication in the question and Rafael frowned, but was interrupted by the sound of Carisi’s cell.

Carisi pulled out the phone and read what came through. He looked up apologetically. “Rollins. The Lieu wants us to go back and talk to the parents again.”

Rafael nodded silently. Carisi re-wrapped his uneaten sandwich and dropped it back in the bag.

“Butterflies, right?”

Rafael sighed. “Right.” He stood up to walk Carisi out. “Call me if you need anything.”

He’d meant legally, but Carisi turned and looked at him sincerely. “You too.” He lifted a hand, but pulled it back too quickly for Rafael to understand what he was reaching for, and stalked out of the room without looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm both slow at writing and replying to comments, sorry. I do appreciate them all.
> 
> Chapter from Sonny's perspective up next, where I promise something may actually happen.


	4. Sonny Interlude

Ghosts aren’t real.

His mother had told him that when he refused to go to bed after Theresa, thirteen and resentful of having to babysit her little brother, had thought it would be funny to trick him into watching Poltergeist. He’d believed her, just like he’d believed her when she told him about angels and visions of the Virgin Mary. Maybe Barba was right, maybe that was hypocritical, but what he’d never understood was that Sonny’s faith was tangible to him – something real he drew from books and blood. Ghosts and spirits weren’t like that. He’d always seen them as an invention, nothing more than a special effect.

It’s why he couldn’t stand people who called themselves mediums, con artists who took advantage of the grieving for money or attention. Only Barba didn’t call himself that. He didn’t talk about “spirit guides” or hold séances in his kitchen, didn’t charge people $30 to tell them their dead husband loved them.

Maybe that’s why he felt inclined to believe him.

Maybe it was just because it was Barba.

The night he’d went to his apartment, he’d cycled through a hundred explanations for Barba’s strange behavior. Short of murder, which he’d never even considered, he’d found a way to excuse them all. For a cop, that was terrifying.

And then he’d said something Sonny hadn’t even thought of, and there were a hundred reasons not to believe him. Ghosts weren’t real, and if they were they didn’t hang around to help people solve their murders. Sonny solved murders for a living. He would have noticed the extra help. And sure, Barba knew things, but really, how much did he know? How much couldn’t be explained away by his job, by the fact that he saw crime scene photos all the time? 

Then there was the boyfriend. Matt. Who Barba loved, who he had watched die in front of him. That would mess with anyone’s head. 

There were a hundred reasons not to believe him.

Sonny wanted to believe him anyway.

He wanted to believe that Barba was okay. That he wasn’t crazy, that losing someone he loved wasn’t still twisting his mind 15 years later. He wanted to believe that he was the one person Barba would trust to tell this secret to, that he was the one person Barba wanted to be truly himself with. 

And god, didn’t that just say it all.

“You’re quiet.”  
  
Rollins cut into his thoughts, glancing between him and the road. 

He turned his head away from the car window and gave her a weak smile. “Tired, I guess. Tough week.”  
  
“Tell me about it.” She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Every minute of this case all I want to do is go home and hold Jesse.” She shook her head. “Anyway. We’re here.”

The throng of reporters that had surrounded the Barnes house for most of the week had almost completely evaporated. Maybe they’d decided to give the family some space, or maybe the mystery of a missing child was more appealing than the tragedy of a dead one. Whatever the reason, the house was quieter than Sonny had ever seen it, though judging by the number of cars outside, the family was not alone. 

Rollins gave him a look before she tapped on the door. Neither of them were particularly happy about this. Rollins had spent less time with the father than Sonny had but he knew that she liked the family. 

The door inched open and a face peered out. “They’re not talking to the press.” 

Sonny flashed his badge and the eyes behind the door widened slightly. “Detectives. Of course.” The door opened just enough to let them both in. “Please come in.” 

He shared another look with Rollins as they stepped through the doorway. The house was as quiet inside as out, with only a low murmur coming from the living room.

He turned to the man who had let them in, a middle aged man in a shirt and tie who wasn't familiar to him. “Thanks. Mr..?” 

The man smiled and held out his hand. “Young. Martin Young. Sorry about that, but someone needs to watch out for the family, you know?” 

“Are you a family member?” Rollins asked. 

“No, no. I’m Patrick’s boss. But I'm very close to the family. Felt like I should be here, you know?”

Sonny held back a frown. He hadn’t seen the man around before now, but then so many people had been coming and going by the house when he was there he may have missed him.

“Detective Carisi.” Claire’s grandmother walked out of the living room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear the door. Have you found something?” 

“Hello, Mrs Barnes,” Sonny said gently, avoiding her question. “We’d just like to speak with your son, if that’s okay.”  
  
Mrs Barnes lifted a hand to her head and rubbed at her eyes. “I’m very sorry, Detective. It’s been a bad morning.” She looked towards the stairs. “He’s in her bedroom. I’m not sure if you’ll get much sense out of him today.” 

Sonny glanced at Rollins and she gave a small shrug. “We’ll give it a shot, Mrs Barnes. Thank you.” 

She tried to smile at them but grief and worry shaped it into a grimace. Martin placed a hand on her back and guided her back to the living room. Rollins muttered something like sympathy and followed Sonny up the stairs.  

“Mr Barnes?” The door to Claire’s room had her name on it in big pink letters, covered in glitter. She’d clearly made it herself and hadn’t reached the age where she was embarrassed enough by it to take it down. It would probably hang there forever now. Sonny tapped at the door as he pushed it open.

Patrick Barnes lay on his daughter’s unmade bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Sonny’s throat constricted at the sight. He’d been so full of life when Sonny had first met him, leading search parties, printing flyers – constantly active. His wife had smiled sadly at Sonny and told him she was worried what would happen when he stopped. Sonny remembered how he’d slumped when he saw his daughter’s body. How all that life had just drained away. 

“Patrick.”  
  
“Have you found who killed her?” His voice was hoarse, either from too much use or not enough. 

Sonny moved forward into the room, Rollins behind him. “No.” He struggled to keep sounding like a cop in the face of such raw grief. “Patrick, we’d like to speak to you…”  
  
He rolled over in the bed to face the wall. Sonny sighed. 

“Patrick, I…”  
  
“Carisi.” Rollins’ voice was soft, and she laid a hand on his arm. “Leave it.” 

Sonny spared one last look at the man’s shuddering back, shook his head and left the room. He leaned against the wall by the door, Rollins settling on the opposite wall to face him. 

“The Lieutenant isn’t going to like this.” 

Rollins pursed her lips. “I’ll talk to Liv. She’ll understand.” 

He blew out a breath. The Lieu knew neither of them were on board with questioning the father. He wasn’t sure Rollins would be able to convince her they weren’t deliberately avoiding the issue. 

“Detectives?” A voice from the stairway made them both turn. The man who had met them at the door, Martin, was lingering by the top of the stairs. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“We’re fine, thanks,” Rollins answered. 

“Are you sure? I’ve worked with Pat for years, he’ll talk to me.”

“We appreciate that,” she said, a note of impatience in her voice. “But we’re good.”  
  
“Oh. Okay.” He made no move to leave, and sighed theatrically. “It's so sad, a beautiful girl like that. I saw her, you know, the day she disappeared. Fixing her bike on the side of the road. I wish I’d stopped now.” 

Sonny vaguely remembered him from the news coverage now, the night of one of the searches, repeating the same thing into the camera. Something about the way it sounded, almost rehearsed, made him feel uneasy.

“Did you tell the police that?” He asked.  
  
“Of course. Soon as they were called, I went up to one of the uniformed officers and let them know.”  
  
“That was helpful,” Rollins piped up. Sonny glanced at her without turning his head; either she'd picked up on his tension or she had her own concerns, but he could see the tightness around her mouth.  
  
Martin shrugged. “Just doing my bit. I may have been the last person to see her alive.” 

Sonny wondered if that was how he put it at the time, before they knew she was dead, and if anyone had made note of it. 

Martin clapped his hands together. “Well, Detectives, if you’re finished let me show you out.” 

He noted that as Martin left with them, no one in the house seemed to notice or care. Surprising, for someone who had presented himself as part of the family.

Martin took them out the back door, leading them down the driveway past several parked cars. Sonny wasn’t really paying attention, his mind turning over distractedly, but then something caught his eye and he stopped so suddenly he almost stumbled. 

“Whose car is this?” 

“Hm? Oh, mine.” Martin replied, placing a hand on the hood of the old black sedan. “I know, it’s going to be a bitch to get it out of here.”

“You have kids?” Sonny’s heart was thumping, he felt sick and uncertain and vindicated all at once.

Martin did a brief double take, but answered. “A daughter. She’s 18 months.”  
  
“That’s nice,” Sonny said quickly, blandly. “That’s for her?” He nodded towards the window. It had one of those sun shades stuck on it, the kind parents use to protect their babies from the bright sunlight. Bella had bought one after Tommy had called Sonny at least seven times to discuss the virtues and cost of window tinting. Seemingly they came in all sorts of colors and designs. Bella's had Winnie the Pooh on it. This one was purple, and covered with butterflies. 

“Yeah” Martin replied, sounding puzzled at the sudden interest. “Does pretty much nothing to keep the light out, but she likes it.” 

“I bet.” Sonny gestured thoughtfully, as if the realization had just come to him. “Hey, Martin. You said you were in the neighborhood when Claire disappeared.” 

“Well, I suppose. Near enough. My wife and I went to dinner at a friend’s house.” 

“Were you there all night?” 

Martin frowned. “Until about 2am,” he said slowly. “My mother-in-law had the baby, we took advantage of the freedom.”

Sonny laughed tightly. “Kids, huh? They sure keep you busy.” 

Martin laughed too, but it sounded wary. 

Listen, Martin,” Sonny said, leaning in chummily. “I hate to admit it, but we’re having real trouble with this case. It’d be a big help if you could come with us to the station, talk us through everything you saw that night.”  
  
Rollins gave him a sharp look, which he ignored. Martin looked around uncertainly, his eyes catching on the few media crews still milling around the house. 

“I’ve already spoken to the police. Is it really necessary?”  
  
“No, no of course not,” Sonny said sweetly. “We’d be really grateful for your help though. You never know what we could have missed.” He placed his hand on his back and steered him towards their car. Martin looked back towards his own car, Sonny pushed him harder. “Thanks Martin. It won’t take long.”

He helped Martin into the car and closed the door. Rollins was watching him with a dubious look in her eyes. 

“I hope you have something.”  
  
Sonny hoped so too.


	5. Chapter 5

Rafael hurried into the precinct, clutching his phone in his hand. He found Liv in her office, watching Carisi and Rollins through the glass. She looked at him in surprise as he approached.

“Barba. Did someone call you?”  
  
He held out his phone as an answer, still on the article Carmen had alerted him to thirty minutes earlier. “It’s all over the internet. They’re saying someone was arrested at the Barnes house.”  
  
Liv pressed her lips together. “Wonderful.” She switched off the intercom and walked away from the window, sitting on the edge of her desk. “No one’s been arrested. I sent Carisi and Rollins to speak to the father and they walked back in here with a completely different person.”

Rafael frowned. “Okay. Who and why?”  
  
“Martin Young, some friend of the family. Why?” She threw her arms up. “Carisi ‘had a feeling’.”  
  
“You’re letting him interrogate someone in based on that?” Rafael said incredulously.

She sighed. “It’s not an interrogation, it’s just a conversation. And Carisi isn’t an idiot, Barba, he’s earned a little leeway.”  
  
Rafael felt like disputing that. He rolled his eyes instead.

“Why’s he in the juvenile room?”

“I told you, it’s not an interrogation. And,” she said haltingly, “Carisi thought the kids stuff might unnerve the guy.”

He had to admit that was a good idea. He looked through the glass, seeing the man for the first time, and felt something heavy settle in his chest. He flipped the intercom back on.

“ _...watched her grow up, heard all about her from her dad.”_

“ _I guess.”_  
  
“ _Yeah, I get that from my partner. Every little thing her kid does, I hear about it. I’ve seen more pictures of her than I have of my own nieces. It’s weird, they almost feel like part of your family, right?”_

“ _I suppose, in a way…”_

“ _Yeah, see, that’s what surprises me. That you saw her trying to fix her bike in the rain and you didn’t stop to check she was okay. That doesn’t seem like you, Martin. You seem like the kind of guy who would try to help. Are you sure you didn’t stop, even just for a second?”_

“ _I’ve already told you, I didn’t stop. I just saw her, I drove on. I’m sorry for it, but I was in a rush.”  
_

“ _Right, of course, you had that dinner to get to. It’s just funny, that’s all. See, we spoke to someone who said they saw Claire going up to a black sedan and talking to the driver.”_

Rafael rapped the glass sharply and Carisi looked over his shoulder in annoyance. He knew Liv was expecting an explanation but he focused on Carisi, who stepped through the door clearly ready to fight but faltered when he saw Rafael.

“Counselor.”  
  
“Detective. You made the news.” He handed his phone over again and Carisi’s eyes widened when he saw the photo that accompanied the article.

“Lieu. I didn’t know they were there, I swear.” He scrolled down the text on the screen and frowned. “They got it wrong, Barba. We didn’t arrest anyone.”  
  
“Doesn’t matter. The visual of you putting someone in the back of a police car was enough.” He fixed Carisi with an expectant look. “Do you want to tell me why you pulled this man in?”

“I had a…”  
  
“Do  _not_  tell me that you had a feeling.”

Carisi snapped his mouth shut, but Rollins jumped in instead.

“Look, counselor, there’s something about this guy. Trust us.” She cut off Rafael’s scoff. “We’re just talking to him, right?”

“You don’t just talk to people in a case like this, Rollins. The media are going to jump all over this, you better have more than a detective’s intuition.”

Rollins squared up to him, ready to defend her partner, but Liv stepped in between them and raised a calming hand. “Okay. That’s enough. Carisi, Barba is right. I trust your instincts, but you need to give us more than that.”  
  
Carisi stepped forward, deliberately avoiding Rafael’s gaze. “Lieu, this is the guy. I know it. Just give me a bit of time, I can prove it.”

“Detective, a word?” Rafael barked. Liv looked over in surprise, but his face must have said it all because she nodded and left her office. “Not you,” he said sharply to Rollins, who looked unimpressed and followed Liv.

“Please tell me you have something concrete.”

Carisi glanced around before stepping closer to Rafael. “There was a window shade on his car,” he said in a hushed tone. “It had a butterfly pattern. She must have gone up to look at it…”

“That’s what you’re basing this on?” Rafael whispered harshly. “Carisi, it could have been a fucking lepidopterist for all we know.”

“Funny. It’s him, Barba. Rollins is right, there’s something not right about him. Like he’s too happy to help.”

“Carisi…”

“Barba, I worked homicide, I know murderers. He’s all over that family, but I don’t think anyone besides the dad could tell you his name. He walked right up to the cops before anyone even talked about her being missing, and the way he speaks about her… Everything is all about him. The only time he talked about her was to say how beautiful she was.” He sighed. “Look, I know you think this is about what you said, but I’m telling you, there’s something really off about this guy.”

Rafael searched Carisi’s eyes. He looked furious, but certain. “Okay Carisi, I bow to your greater understanding of the human condition. But I can’t use any of that in court.”

“I know. That’s why I brought him in.” He turned to look through the glass, where Martin was idly rubbing a hand up and down his arm. “He’s right on the edge, I know it. I can get a confession.”

“You’d better,” Rafael said. “Because I can’t call a dead girl to the stand.”

 

* * *

 

Several hours after leaving Carisi to question his suspect, Rafael sat by the window in his apartment, watching the rain fall down the glass in rivulets. He should have been at the office, really, he had work to do, but he was too distracted to be of much use. He was just lucky that he didn’t have any court dates planned for the next couple of weeks. He had told Carmen not to expect him the next morning, blaming a touch of the flu. He knew she thought it was stress. She wasn’t entirely wrong.

His phone was on the table beside him, next to his scotch. He hadn’t heard from anyone, dead or alive, since he’d left the station, but he felt a creeping sense of dread that had only gotten worse as darkness had closed in.

He felt guilty. He hadn’t told Carisi that he was right, that he had the right man. He’d known it from the moment he saw him in the interview room, but he’d done enough to interfere with the investigation without adding more vague notions to the mix.

He’d just taken another sip of his drink when his door buzzer went off, making him jump. He made no move to answer it as he wasn’t expecting anyone, it was probably someone buzzing every apartment trying to get in. A few seconds later his phone vibrated against the table.

_It’s me. Let me in._

He jumped up and hit the button to open the door. He gave the apartment a quick look over- it wasn’t the tidiest it had ever been, but it would do.

About a minute later there was a knock at the door, and he pulled it open.

Carisi pushed past him, soaking wet from the rain, practically buzzing with nervous energy. Rafael watched him pace, pushing against the table and the wall, before he stopped by the entry to the kitchen.

“I screwed up.” He ran a hand through his hair, which was falling in wet strands about his eyes. “Fuck, Barba, I really screwed up.”  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“Martin Young. We had to let him go.” Carisi sagged against the wall. “His wife showed up with an alibi.”  
  
Rafael’s heart sank. He knew that couldn’t be right. “Was it solid?”

“She said he came straight from work and was with her all evening. She said their friends could corroborate it. We didn’t have anything else, the Lieu said we had to let him go.” He started to pace again, looking increasingly manic. “He was talking about suing the department. I spent an hour with Dodds being told I had to stay the hell away from him. I know it was him, Barba, I know it. Now we’ve lost him.”  
  
“Carisi, it’s okay...”

“It’s not okay. I screwed up the case because I was impatient, because I wanted to prove you right.”

Rafael stilled. He didn’t know if that was an accusation or a confession. 

“Carisi, stop. You said yourself, you had reason to suspect this guy.”  
  
“I twisted things to fit what I wanted,” Carisi grumbled.

Rafael didn’t necessarily disagree with that, but he’d worked with SVU long enough to appreciate that their leaps of logic often got the job done.

“You did your job," he said firmly. "You had to let him go, it’s fine, it happens. Forget Dodds, keep an eye on him. He’ll slip up somehow.”

Carisi folded his arms and stared at the floor. “You still think he’s our guy?”  
  
“I know he is.”

Carisi looked up sharply. “You  _know_? Then why didn’t you say that at the precinct?”

“I had to keep you on your toes.” Rafael smirked halfheartedly. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to screw up your investigation. But you did the right thing, Carisi. And we will work this out. I promise, we'll get him.”

Carisi blinked at him, and before Rafael knew what was happening Carisi’s lips were on his, his fingers pressing hard into his skin as they ran down his torso. It wasn’t until he reached his belt that Rafael pulled away breathlessly.

"Hold on, wait. What are you doing?”  
  
Carisi grabbed his arms, pulling him so close Rafael could feel both their hearts thudding. “What do you think I’m doing? Come on Barba, aren’t you tired of waiting? I am.”

Rafael couldn’t think of a good answer while he was looking in his eyes, so he pulled away again and stuttered out a bad one.

“You’re upset, and we’re both exhausted.”

“I don’t care,” Carisi said softly, stepping back into his personal space, gently, like he could sense Rafael was about to bolt.

Rafael moved forward, almost unconsciously, then hesitated. “I… wait. Wait.” He forced himself to look away from Carisi’s gaze. “I haven’t done this in a while. Being something. With someone. I just… can we wait?”

Carisi's expression softened, and he caught Rafael’s hand in his own. “Being something?”

“I don’t want this to be nothing,” Rafael said quietly. “Don’t you…”

“Of course,” Carisi interrupted. “Of course I do.” He smiled. “I just thought I’d have to work a little harder to get that out of you.”  
  
Rafael shrugged. “I’m working on scotch and about three hours sleep.”

Carisi snorted a laugh and leaned in, kissing him more gently than before. “That explains it.” He ran a thumb across Rafael’s cheek. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little worked up right now. I should go.”  
  
“Don’t,” Rafael blurted out, catching him by the arm. “I mean, it’s raining, you should stay until it… until it stops.” He fumbled his words as he looked in Carisi’s eyes, standing so close their chests moved in time as they breathed together. He closed his eyes.

“Screw it.”

He grabbed Carisi and dragged him towards the bedroom, pulling off his coat as he went. Carisi’s hands ran down his back to his hips, thumbs digging in to his side as he pulled his shirt free. They stumbled on to the bed, and for the first time in a long time, Rafael felt like half his mind wasn’t lost to someone else’s thoughts.

* * *

 

It was still raining.

Rafael leant his head back against the couch and pulled his knees closer to his chest, silently watching the rain fall down the window. It was soothing, somehow.

His eyes started to close when he heard a shuffling noise from behind him.

“What are you doing out here?”

Rafael looked over his shoulder, smiling at Carisi standing half undressed in the gloom. “I didn’t want to wake you. I’m sorry.”  
  
“It’s fine. Is that glass?”  
  
Rafael glanced down at the shards that remained of his scotch glass, glinting in the street light coming in through the window. “She was upset,” he said quietly.

Carisi looked blank for a moment before understanding flitted over his face, and he turned on his heel and walked back into the bedroom. Rafael sighed and wrapped his arms tighter around himself. He shouldn’t have said anything. He knew Carisi was still having trouble with that side of him, the side that woke up at 3am to deal with angry ghosts. It was a crazy thing to expect someone to accept. He couldn’t blame him for doubting, not really.

“It’s freezing out here.” Carisi emerged with his shoes on, carrying the blanket from the bed. He climbed on the couch and nestled in close, pulling the blanket over both of them and putting an arm round his shoulders. Ridiculously, Rafael felt like crying. He blamed the lack of sleep.

“Claire did this?” Carisi whispered.

“Yeah,” Rafael said simply.

“Because of me?”  
  
“Because of  _him_.”

Carisi said nothing, just pulled Rafael in closer and rubbed circles on his shoulder with his thumb. “Why are you out here?”  
  
Rafael paused for far too long to make anything else sound convincing, so he settled for the truth. “I didn’t want her to be alone.”

Carisi’s hand stilled and Rafael knew he was looking at him, but he was afraid if he met his eyes something would break. Carisi leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his temple.

“You’re a good person, you know."

Rafael wasn’t sure about that, but he didn’t argue.

They sat in silence for a while, Carisi continuing to rub calming circles on Rafael's shoulder.

“Is it always like this?” he asked quietly, his concern palpable.

Rafael shook his head. “Most of the time it’s just fleeting. A face that doesn’t quite fit in with the crowd. A voice that sounds a little off. Sometimes I don’t even realize what I’ve seen until later. But sometimes,” he stopped, breathing out a shaky sigh. “Sometimes it’s like this. Constant, and heavy, and it’s like… like I can feel them in my head. Like they’re a part of me.” He laughed roughly. “That’s when I feel really crazy.”

He felt Carisi’s breath hitch against him.

“You’re not crazy. You’re exhausted. Just get some sleep, okay? I’ll…” He hesitated. “I’ll stay up with her.”

Rafael stared at him, not for the first time left speechless by Sonny Carisi.

Carisi frowned. “Is she… I mean, she is still here?”

Rafael smiled. “By the window.”

Carisi turned toward the window, rearranging himself so Rafael was half lying against his chest. “I got her,” he said softly. “Go to sleep.”

Rafael wanted to argue. He didn’t want to sleep, he wanted to stay awake, to be conscious of being held, to be conscious of  _Sonny,_ but when he closed his eyes and felt the warmth of his arms tighten around him, everything became calm, and he drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

He woke the next morning alone, and felt a jolt of panic before his eyes fell on the note on the coffee table.

_Work. Will call later._

_X_

He touched the paper gently and smiled. He noticed that all the glass had been tidied away, and his shoes placed in front of him on the couch, just in case. He slipped them on and walked into the kitchen, picking up his phone from the table as he passed.

He had to double check the time as he prepared his coffee. He hadn’t slept past 3am most mornings recently, let alone 10am.

He leaned against the counter as he waited for the coffee to brew and thought about the upcoming day. He was off work, but he might use his newfound restedness to catch up on paperwork. Carisi would drop by when he was done with work, and they could talk. He knew he’d wanted to talk more yesterday, particularly about Rafael’s past, but they’d found other things to do.

He smiled to himself as he turned to the coffee machine.

“Rafael?”

He jumped at the unexpected call, but immediately relaxed at the voice.

“Carisi? What are you doing back so early?”

“I think I hit my head.”

Rafael frowned. “What?” He put his cup down. “Are you okay?” He walked out of the kitchen expecting to find Carisi on the couch, but the living room was empty. He walked towards the bedroom.

“Carisi?”

It was empty. An uneasy feeling started to crawl up through his chest. He walked back into the living room.

“Sonny?”

Silence.

Then he realized.

The door was locked.

Carisi didn’t have a key.

The room was cold.

“Fuck,” he hissed, pulling out his phone with shaking hands. He hit Carisi’s name.

“Please pick up,” he muttered.

He was probably just imagining things. He was useless without coffee.

“Come on.”

Carisi was busy with work, that’s why he wasn’t answering.

“Please.”

He probably couldn’t feel the phone going off in his coat pocket.

“Barba?”

All the breath was knocked out of him.

“Rollins.”

There was silence on the other end, and it took a second for Rafael to find his voice. “What happened?”

How did…” Her voice was shaking, and he could hear he trying to get her breathing under control. “Carisi, he went for coffee. He didn’t come back so I went to find him. I found... There must have been a fight, I don’t know. They put him in an ambulance… shit, I need to call Liv.”

“Wait, Rollins. Which hospital?”

She told him, and he vaguely registered that it was the hospital Mike Dodds died in.

He didn’t remember hanging up the phone, or leaving his apartment, or walking down the stairs. Everything was a blur until he walked out the door, the fresh air hitting him like a slap in the face. His knees buckled and he fell hard against the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I really need to lighten up.


	6. Sonny Interlude

Sonny shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried towards the coffee shop. He’d volunteered to pick up drinks for the squad just to get out – the Lieutenant had been casting him half pitying looks all morning and Rollins hadn’t stopped dropping comments since he showed up wearing the same suit as the day before.

He missed Barba. Which was ridiculous, it had barely been a few hours since he’d left him sleeping peacefully on the couch, but his mind was full of him, wanting to talk to him and hold him and be with him.

Which was another reason for the coffee run. He really needed to clear his head and focus. Because Barba was right. They were going to find a way to put this killer behind bars. Then maybe Claire Barnes could rest in peace. And maybe Barba could have some peace.

His hand was on the handle of the coffee shop door when he saw him, slouching by an alleyway, staring out from under a baseball cap. Sonny sighed and turned his head back to the door.

He knew he should go inside. He was on his own, he’d been told to keep his distance, the only possible thing he could do was make things worse.

He pressed his forehead against the door and cursed, turned and headed towards the alley.

“Martin,” he greeted calmly. “Something you forgot to tell us yesterday?”

Martin shrugged jerkily and walked further into the alley. Sonny glanced around. The street was quiet, but not empty. He took a single step forward and rested his hand on his gun.

“Come on Martin, you’re the one following me. What do you want?”

“You screwed everything up,” he growled, facing away from Sonny.

Sonny let out a short laugh. “ _I_ did?”

“That photo. There were people waiting outside my house. Throwing things at my windows. Screaming at my wife and child.”

“I’m sorry for that,” he said, genuinely, because he didn’t relish the idea of more innocent people being dragged into this mess. “I didn’t know that was going to happen.”

“I was just trying to make it right!”

Sonny frowned at the exclamation. “You were what?”

Martin gave a low, frustrated sigh. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I was just trying to keep her quiet. I didn’t realize… She just went limp.”

Sonny took an involuntary step forward. He didn’t want to hear a confession in a dark alley half a block from the station. He needed this to be official. “Martin…”

“It was a mistake, that’s all. I was trying to fix it. And then you came along, with your accusations. What good would it do them now, to tell them what I’d done? What good would it do _my_ family?”

By now Sonny had realized his mistake, and started to step back towards the street.

“Look, Martin. Why don’t you come to the station with me? We can find somewhere for your family to stay, they’ll be safe.”

Maybe it was the mention of his family that set him off, Sonny didn’t know, but suddenly he surged forward. Sonny’s hand closed around his gun, but Martin caught him at a bad angle, causing him to trip back and slam his head into the wall. The gun slipped from his grasp. Martin shifted on his feet, breathing hard, seemingly surprised by what he’d done. Sonny realized that he probably didn’t have much experience attacking adults.

“Martin,” he ground out through the thumping in his skull. “Everything’s fine, okay? Let’s just talk.” He pushed himself into a kneel, one eye on the other man as he tried to subtly reach for his gun, but the bang on his head slowed him down and the move was too obvious.

Martin shouted and kicked hard at his arm. Sonny heard a crack and doubled in on himself with a choked off cry.

Martin grabbed at his hair, forcing Sonny to look up at him, and he saw in his eyes he was in trouble. He’d underestimated him, because Sonny was taller and trained and armed, but fury was a hell of a thing to contend with.

“Wait…”

“Shut the fuck up,” Martin rasped, slamming his head back against the wall again. The roughness of the brick scraped against his face and he felt a trickle of blood. He slumped forward onto the ground, dizzy and sick, and tried to push himself back up, but a kick to the ribs knocked the wind out of him and he dropped again.

Far off, muffled, he heard a cry from the street.

He rolled over with a groan. His hands were around his side, not his head, and the first blow caught him by surprise, pain exploding across the side of his head. He didn’t feel the second blow and dimly, he recognized that wasn’t right. He saw the third blow coming, and tried to roll away, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.

He called Barba’s name before everything went dark.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second update, because I'm not massively fond of the last one.
> 
> I apologise in advance, this is about as medically accurate as an episode of Diagnosis Murder.

How he got to the hospital was a blur. He assumed he took a cab, but from the way his heart was pounding and he couldn’t catch a breath, he felt like he’d ran there.

A nurse directed him to the right place, but Carisi wasn’t hard to find. There were a number of NYPD officers milling around, as there always was when one of their own was hurt. He pushed through them until he found Rollins. She was hunched over a paper cup of coffee in the family room. There was blood on her sleeves.

She stood when she saw him, looking less surprised than he expected.

"Barba."

“How is he?” He asked, without preamble.

“I don’t know,” she said shakily. “No one’s told me anything since I got here. I managed to speak to the paramedics, they said he was coming round when they brought him in. That’s a good sign, right?”

She looked at him pleadingly, but the memory of Carisi appearing in his apartment was too clear for him to be any comfort.

“What happened?”

She ran a hand through her hair. “He was attacked.”

“Yes, I got that,” he snapped. “Attacked how? Was there a weapon?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know.” She folded her arms anxiously. “Barba, the guy we questioned about Claire Barnes. He was arrested at the scene.”

A bitter voice crept into his head, whispering that this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t said anything in the first place. Matt’s voice. Or maybe his own voice. He drowned it out by turning on Rollins.

“Why wasn’t anybody watching him?”

“We had no grounds for that," she replied, with far more patience than he really deserved. "Carisi was working on getting approval.”

Rafael sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. What’s happening now?”

She shrugged tightly. “I’m waiting on the doctor.”

He fell into a chair and buried his head in his hands. Rollins sat quietly next to him.

“I was joking with him this morning. He was wearing the same suit as yesterday, I asked if he got lucky.” Rafael huffed a laugh into his hands but didn’t look up. Rollins chuckled wetly.

“I didn’t think you’d ever make a move.”

He supposed rushing in breathless terror to the hospital wasn’t his most subtle move.

He rubbed his face with his hands and gave her a sideways glance. “I didn’t have to.”

Rollins smirked. “Attaboy, Carisi.”

She didn’t ask anything else, and he was grateful for her deliberate lack of interest. He asked about Carisi’s family, though he knew his parents were in Boston. Rollins had called Bella who was trying to get in touch with her sisters, one of whom was still in Staten Island. It would be a while before they would all get there.

It was another hour before the murmur of the assembled cops began to hush, and a doctor made her way into the room.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Chu,” she said brusquely, approaching Rollins. “You’re the partner?”

“Yeah,” she answered quickly, half standing. “How is he?”

Dr Chu indicated for her to sit down, and Rafael had a sudden flash of his mother crying by his hospital bed that he tried to shake away. Through the buzzing in his ears he made out “internal bleeding” and “emergency surgery” before he was able to focus back in.

“I am concerned about the head injury. He was briefly conscious when he arrived, but very disoriented. There is some evidence of swelling around the brain. This isn’t something that necessarily requires surgical intervention, but we will monitor him closely, and we’ll perform a second CT scan to determine the severity of the issue.”

“Is he…” They both turned in surprise, and he coughed dryly. “I mean, can we see him?”

The doctor smiled at him, but addressed her reply to Rollins. “He’s sedated, but you can sit with him for a short period.”

Rollins looked at him and he nodded.

The doctor stood and held out an arm. “I’ll show you the way.”

He found himself in another room, waiting for Rollins to finish, because neither of them particularly wanted a witness to whatever it was they needed to say. She walked back in after a few minutes, her eyes red but dry.

“Liv’s been on at me to get back to the station,” she said. “If you’re still here when Bella comes by, can you tell her to call me?”

He didn’t respond, busy staring at the doorway and thinking about what was beyond.

“Hey,” she said, ducking into his line of sight. “I’ve seen worse than this. He’s strong. He’ll be fine.”

She sounded like she was trying to convince herself too, but he accepted the gesture anyway. He offered an attempt at a smile and she left, leaving him staring at the door for a while longer before he was able to force himself to his feet and walk to Carisi’s room.

The room was silent except for a steady beeping, a nurse in the corner taking notes off the machines. Carisi was lying against fresh white sheets, the red and purple bruises standing out stark on his face. There were wires everywhere, and a splint on his arm. Rollins had pulled a chair over next to the bed and he sat down heavily.

“Hey.” He lifted his hand to Carisi’s head and stroked his fingers through his hair. “Appreciate you dropping by, but maybe next time you can do it in person.”

His hand caught on some dried blood and he pulled it away. He twisted his fingers together until the pressure hurt and he let go again.

“You asked me a couple of days ago if I still saw Matt,” he said softly. “I don’t. I never did see him after… afterwards. I told myself it was good, that he was in a better place, or however you would put it. Truth is I was just glad I didn’t have to face him.”

He swallowed past a growing lump in his throat, looking up at the nurse who was far too professional to care about anything he was saying. He’d never been very comfortable talking about himself and, unexpectedly, the fact that Carisi couldn’t respond made it more difficult, not less.

“We were arguing, before the crash. I should have been paying more attention, and I wasn’t, and he died.” His voice cracked on the last word and he had to take a breath to steady himself. “You would have liked him, I think. He was more like me, all sharp edges, not enough patience. But he was funny…” He smiled fondly, and shook his head. “I don’t want you to think I never talked about him because I didn’t love him. It was just difficult, so I stopped.”  
  
He could imagine Carisi’s side of the conversation, softly assuring him that it wasn’t his fault, that Matt had known he loved him, that he had nothing to feel guilty for.

“I got by like that for years. Putting it all in a box, forcing myself not to think about it. Then you and I—then we started to get closer, and it was _awful_.” He laughed shortly.  “I started having nightmares I hadn’t had in years, reliving everything that happened, only worse, somehow.”

He thought of Matt in his nightmares, blood running down his face, accusing him of killing him, abandoning him, forgetting him.

“So I didn’t do anything, and I thought you’d go away, but you didn’t. And I realized I didn’t want you to.” He shook his head, tears threatening to well over. “God, Sonny, I’m so _tired_ of being miserable. I deserve to be happy. I’ve been through enough. I’ve _done_ enough.”

He clutched the metal rail along the bed, his knuckles turning white. “So you need to wake up. And if you don’t, don’t come back.”

With that, he pushed himself away from the bed and strode into the corridor. His hands were shaking, and he balled them into fists to keep them steady.

He texted Liv on his way out of the hospital.

 

* * *

 

Rollins was pulling on her coat when he arrived at the precinct.

“Counselor,” she shouted across to him, exasperation clear in her tone. “Pick up your phone once in a while.”  
  
He patted his coat for his phone, finding it in its usual pocket. He must have been too distracted on the way over to notice it going off. He had a sudden stab of fear that he’d missed something from the hospital.

“What is it?”  
  
She grabbed her keys and met him with a small but satisfied smile. “Young confessed. To murdering Claire Barnes.”

He dropped his head and breathed a sigh of relief. He'd expected it, but he didn't know how much pushing Liv would have to do to force a confession. At least now they were getting somewhere. “Okay. So where are you going?”

“Bella called, she’s at the hospital now. I’m going to go check in.”

He felt a twinge of guilt that he hadn’t stuck around long enough to meet Carisi’s sisters when they arrived, but there was no accusation from Rollins, who had been unusually soft with him all day. She placed a hand gently on his arm. “I’ll let you know if he wakes up.”

He smiled gratefully and she gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder before leaving. Carisi would have laughed, watching them both puzzle their way through this new bond, knowing he was the source of it.

Liv was just coming out of the interrogation room when he walked into her office. Fin followed her out and gave Rafael a nod of acknowledgment, before disappearing out the door.

“Hey.” She looked exhausted, but the fierce determination that had been missing from her eyes for most of the case was back. “Amanda said you were at the hospital, any change?”

“No.” He turned his head away, realizing he’d probably have to start answering more questions about Carisi from here on in. He rested an arm against the glass and leaned against it, looking in at the pale figure sitting alone in the middle of the room. “This guy took out Carisi?”

“And killed a little girl.”  
  
“Rollins told me.” He continued to stare through the glass. “He looks like a fucking dentist,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” she agreed softly, joining him by the window. “He refused a lawyer, but he’s pretty keen to talk.”

“What about the alibi?”

She frowned at him, and he realized belatedly that they’d never talked about that. A subtle raise of the eyebrow was the only indication that she knew who had told him.

“He says he left work a little early. He was only 20 minutes late home. The wife didn’t notice. Doesn’t seem like she was lying. Willfully blind, maybe, but not deceptive.”

He laid his head against the cool glass and breathed. Twenty minutes to kill and bury a child, then pretend it never happened.

He forced down his disgust and smoothed down his coat. “Right,” he said, moving towards the door.  
  
“Whoa,” Liv said, putting a hand out to stop him. “Where are you going?”  
  
“I want to talk to him,”  
  
“Why?”

“I might end up trying the case, I’d like to know what I’m up against,” he said shortly. Liv didn’t move her hand. “Unless you want him to get away with it?”

“He confessed, Barba. It’s good.”  
  
“That’s what we thought about Lewis Hodda.”

Liv worked her jaw as she stared at him. He stared back defiantly.

“You and I need to have a drink when this is all over,” she said slowly, before shaking her head. “Fine, but I’m coming in with you, and if you do anything I don’t like I will drag you out of there.”  
  
“Got it, Lieutenant.”

Young looked up when they walked into the room. “I said I don’t want a lawyer,” he spat.

“That’s a bad decision, but it’s your right,” Rafael responded, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “Why’d you kill her, Martin?”

He groaned and put his head in his hands. “I’ve already been through this. I didn’t mean to. She got scared, started to cry. I just wanted her to be quiet.”  
  
“So it was an accident?”  
  
“Yes, an accident.”  
  
“What about Detective Carisi, was he an accident too?”

“I just saw red, I didn’t mean…”

“You kicked him in the head until someone dragged you away,” Liv cut in venomously, and Rafael had to grip the edge of the table.

Young shook his head furiously. “He shouldn’t have come after me. I was making it right, wasn’t I? I was taking care of that family.”

The room suddenly burned hot, and there was a ringing in Rafael’s ears. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t think the family would see it that way. I don’t think Claire would.”  
  
“I’m sorry…”

“Yeah?” He felt a presence beside himself, a white hot ball of rage and terror. “Try telling her that.”

He shoved his chair back with a scrape and stalked out of the room. Liv sighed behind him but he heard her get up to follow. She closed the door behind them.

“Very probing questions, Counselor, I’m glad you dropped by.”

“Liv…”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” She waved him off. “Get out of here, go to the hospital. But we’re having that drink.”

 

* * *

 

Rafael arrived at the hospital to find Rollins and Bella talking in the waiting room. There was another woman he recognized from the photos on Carisi’s desk but couldn’t remember whether it was Gina or Teresa. Bella gave him a warm smile.

“Mr Barba. Hey.”

“Hi, Bella.”

“Did you eat?” Rollins asked. “I was going to take Bella and Gina down to grab something.”  
  
Gina. He’d have to remember that.

“I had something on the way over,” he lied. “Any change?”

“They did another CT scan,” Bella said. “The swelling is going down and they’re not concerned about bleeding. They’ve given him some sort of medication so he might be out for a while, but the doctor says he’s out of danger.”

Rafael tried to keep his face neutral but he could feel himself about to lose it, and he had to squint out the window. Rollins caught the look in his eye and ushered Bella and Gina out.

“We’ll be a little while, if you want to go in,” she whispered as she passed.

He sank into a chair and rubbed at his eyes, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself before he headed to Carisi’s room.

For all of Bella’s positivity, Carisi didn’t look any better. The bruises and bandages were one thing, but what really unnerved Rafael was how still he was. 

He sat in the chair next to the bed and laid a hand gently on his splinted arm. There was another nurse in the room, different from the one before.  She lifted Carisi’s free arm to check his pulse, a silver fob watch in her other hand.

She put his arm down with a smile. “He’ll wake up soon.”  
  
Rafael nodded. “So they tell me.” He wouldn’t feel at ease until Carisi opened his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Rafael,” the nurse said kindly, stopping by the door to look back at him. “It’s not his time yet.”

He looked up sharply, and laughed out loud when he saw the old fashioned uniform he hadn't taken the time to notice before.

“You people can never give me a break, can you?”  
  
She cocked her head to one side. “Oh, Rafael. Do you think you would still see us if you didn’t want to?”

He frowned, taken aback. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The nurse simply smiled and walked out the door. He jumped out of his seat to follow her, knowing full well the corridor would be empty when he looked. As it was.

He slapped the door frame lightly in frustration.

“Rafael?”

Rafael spun round, the memory of the last time he heard his name in that voice filling him with dread at what he might find.

Carisi blinked at the light, frowning at him.

Awake. Alive.

“Sonny,” he breathed, walking back over the bed.

Carisi tried to smile at him, and grimaced at the pain. “I called for you,” he whispered.

“I know,” Rafael said softly, taking Carisi’s uninjured arm and pressing a kiss to his hand. “I heard you.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note, there is a reference to suicide in this chapter and the tags have been updated to reflect that.

“Have you ever seen any famous ghosts?”

“I saw John Lennon in Central Park once.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Spoilsport.”

It was the third day of what doctors had recommended should be a week in the hospital, and Carisi – Sonny – was now fully awake and entirely restless. Rafael would have felt sorry for him, but he was too pleased to see him active and relatively back to normal. He’d been having some trouble with headaches, but the doctor said it was nothing to be concerned about. Still, Rafael’s heart clenched every time he screwed his eyes shut or asked him to turn down the lights.

“Have you seen anything since you’ve been here?”

“It’s a hospital, Sonny,” he said flatly. “But nothing as bad as before.”

“You haven’t seen Claire again?”

He shook his head. He’d seen nothing of her since that day at the precinct. That was how it worked. There was no bright light, no heartfelt goodbye. They just didn’t come back. In many ways it was a relief, but it was difficult when something that had been such a presence in your life suddenly dropped out of it.

Sonny reached out and grazed his arm lightly to bring his attention back. “Hey. Are you okay?”

His mind went to the nurse who had appeared by Sonny’s bed, whose words he’d tried not to think about since Sonny woke up. He looked back at Sonny, who was starting to look concerned by his silence, and smiled. “Yes, Sonny. I’m okay.”

“Good, because I want to ask you something. The doctors said I should be going home in a few days, and I don’t know when I’ll be going back to work, but I wanted to ask you...”

He was babbling, and Rafael took his hand in concern. “Ask me what?”

“What do you think about setting up our own private detective agency?”

Rafael pulled his hand away. “Okay. I'm leaving.”

“Wait! We can call ourselves The Psychic Detectives!”

He tried in vain to hold back a smile. “I think you need to be sedated again.”

“Nah,” Sonny smirked. “You’d miss me.”

“Yes, I would.”

Sonny’s expression softened and he reached out to pull Rafael closer to him.

“I like seeing you smile,” he said, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Don't you need to watch your blood pressure?” Rollins joked as she came through the door.

“Ah, my second babysitter is here, looks like you can head back to work.”

Rafael gave him a look, though the jibe was good natured, and Sonny winked at him, causing him to roll his eyes.

Rollins cleared her throat. “A quick word before you leave, counselor?”

She guided him out into the hallway.

“I want to see how he’s feeling before I say anything to him,” she whispered, nodding through the door towards Sonny. “But I thought you could use a heads up. Martin Young is dead.”

His eyes flicked instinctively to Sonny, then back to her. “How?”

“Hung himself in his cell. The prison officer said he’d been screaming the place down about a little girl following him, swore she was in the cell with him. Guess what he did finally caught up with him.”

Rafael tried to suppress the vengeful sense of satisfaction that welled up in his chest. Sonny wouldn’t approve of it, he’d say he should have faced justice in the courts. He’d be right, and maybe one day Rafael would acknowledge that. Right now, looking back at Sonny alive and awake and smiling in his hospital bed, he couldn’t really bring himself to care. It was over.

He nodded at Rollins and crossed back to the bed, taking Sonny’s hand.

“You’re not smiling any more,” Sonny said.

“I didn’t want to frighten Rollins.”

Sonny chuckled, and ran a hand up his arm. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Rafael murmured, letting everything else fall away but the warm, steady feeling of Sonny’s hand in his. “I’m good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done!
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading, hope you enjoyed it and thank you for all your kudos and comments.
> 
> And thanks to the folks on the Discord who kept reccing this fic, I don't talk very much but it really does make my day when I see it mentioned.


End file.
